


To the Moon and Back

by RangoAteMyBaby (FormallyKnownAsFreya)



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Bisexual Lance, Blind Keith (Voltron), Bottom Keith, Come Eating, Cute, Face-Fucking, Fluff, Gay Keith, Groping, M/M, Minor Allura/Shiro (Voltron), Oral Sex, Rimming, Tiny bit of Angst, Top Lance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-17
Updated: 2017-10-29
Packaged: 2019-01-18 18:21:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 18,592
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12393585
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FormallyKnownAsFreya/pseuds/RangoAteMyBaby
Summary: Lance just started working at a coffee shop thanks to his good friend Hunk. Everything is great: the pay, the location, and even the customers. Or at least, most of them. This one guy, a grad student named Keith, completely baffles him.He's not sure what Keith's deal is but there's gotta be more to this aloof graduate student than meets the eye.





	1. Chapter 1

Don’t get him wrong. Lance is exceedingly grateful for the job Hunk got him. It’s got all the perks he could ever want at this point in his life. Close to the campus and all the hot available college students. Free lunch on the cafe’s dime. A stone's throw from the bus stop so he can get home at a reasonable time every night. The beach is literally a ten-minute walk away. And on top of everything else, the pay is pretty damn good. It’s literally the nicest little coffee shop he’s ever worked in.

But the customers leave something to be desired.

Well, one customer. The rest are alright but this guy. He’s only been working there for a week and a half but...Man, this guy Keith is a grade-A douchebag.

At first glance, Lance thought, nice. Good looking shorter guy. Stylish jacket, nice tousled hair, killer voice. Satchel over his shoulder, so a student. Even his sunglasses are cool. He’s super hot but then that’s where all the sexy stops.

He’s a jerk! Rude!

That first day when Hunk introduced him, he seemed alright. Nodded and said ‘nice to meet you’. Even shook Lance’s hand. But then suddenly Lance didn’t exist any day after that. Just comes in and blows past Lance who’s there waving and being polite to go straight to the counter where Hunk is waiting. Just says ‘my usual Hunk’ and Hunk makes it for him without missing a beat.

Hardly says a word as he’s paying at the register. Simply slides his card across the counter, waits for Hunk to swipe it. Sometimes they small talk but he doesn’t even acknowledge that Lance is even standing right there.

Now he can’t stand that dumb jacket. That horrible mullet. His annoying voice. And those stupid stupid stupid sunglasses! He wears them everywhere! Like he can’t be caught not looking cool! Ugh! It just...it irks Lance in a way no one has ever irked him before.

He’s had to take Keith’s order a couple of times already but he ignores all of Lance’s attempts at being friendly. At first, he took it as Keith just being really aloof. Lance waves at him when he comes in but the guy doesn’t even tilt his head at him. Tries to smile when he’s swiping his card but Keith never smiles back. Just takes back his card without a word and sits down at the same exact table every day. Once in the mornings and once in the afternoon, every day like clockwork.

And it’s getting harder and harder to be nice each time he comes in. He’s let slip a grumble or two when swiping his card but if Keith’s noticed he hasn’t said anything.

“Why are you trying so hard to get him to like you?” Hunk asks, putting pastries in the display.

“No one’s ever been such a jerk to me before!” Lance huffs as he leans back against the counter. “I mean, not without reason. I’ve been nothing but nice to this guy! And he’s an ass! Would it kill him to crack a smile, specifically at me?”

“Keith’s actually pretty nice,” Hunk disagrees and closes the display.

“Yeah, to you,” Lance sighs. “Always says hi to you. I wave--nothin. Give him my best ladykiller smile--guy’s as cold as ice. I want to smack those sunglasses right off his handsome fucking face.”

“Tell me how you really feel Lance,” Hunk chuckles as he takes the tray and puts it back in the kitchen.

“Also, the 80s called and they want their mullet back!” Lance exclaims, running a hand through his own short clipped hair. “God, you’d have to be blind to think that looks good.”

Hunk starts laughing at that and it puts Lance in a better mood. He loves making people laugh and Hunk always had a good sense of humor. Shame Keith looks like the type to hate jokes. So serious. Distant. The sourpuss.

Lance looks at the clock. Almost 3:15.

“Look, I’ll show you. Watch. When he comes in, he won’t even acknowledge me,” Lance bets.

The door jingles as the subject of their conversation walks in.

Red jacket and shouldering a bag. He pauses at the door and looks around the cafe before turning his face to the counter. Lance gives him his most interested smile and even gives him a wink. Absolutely no reaction from Keith other than to walk forward and past him.

“Afternoon Keith,” Hunk smiles.

“Hey Hunk. How’s it going?” Keith asks and Lance just angrily pouts, looking in Hunk’s direction, his hand making rude gestures at Keith from behind the counter. He even mocks him a little with the crossed arms and sweeping his hair back like he sees Keith do all the time.

Hunk stifles a snort but answers Keith. “Good, good. No complaints here. The usual?”

Keith steps over to the register, already pulling out his wallet. His fingers thumb gingerly at the card until he gets it out. Lance leans on the counter, right next to the register, but Keith doesn’t even spare him a glance.

“Yeah, thanks. My normal table available?” Keith asks as he hands off the card. Lance takes it, rolling his eyes as he swipes it. Even lets slip an exasperated sigh.

“Sure is,” Hunk nods. “Bring out your order when it’s ready.”

Keith nods his thanks again as he takes the card back and takes off for his usual spot.

“I told you so!” Lance whispers after Keith’s far enough away. “I could twerk on this table in a dress with a rose in my mouth and a horse mask on my head and he wouldn’t look.”

“No, I don’t imagine _anyone_ would want to,” Hunk snorts at the image.

“Very funny,” Lance pouts. “But really, is it so much to ask for a little recognition? Just a hello? I mean, I drew a picture of a cat wearing his shades on his coffee that first day. It was really good! Didn’t even smile, that--grinch!”

Hunk snorts out some laughter again.

“You make his order,” Hunk smiles. “You’ve been here long enough to know what he drinks. I need to check on the croissants.”

“Yeah, got it,” Lance sighs and gets started.

He eyes Keith over the espresso machine for a moment.

He always sits in the table farthest from the others. The quietest spot. He’s pulled out a book from his satchel and put it in his lap to read, his fingers brushing the words as he goes. He mouths the words sometimes and rereads the page before flipping it.

“He really is nicer than you think,” Hunk says as he returns smelling of bread. “He’s been coming here for three years straight. Mornings to listen to music before class. Afternoons for studying.”

“What’s he study?” Lance asks, his curiosity getting the better of his annoyance.

“You could just ask him,” Hunk tells him when Lance finishes making the drink and turns to hand it to him. Hunk shakes his head no. “ _You_ take his order over. And be nice.”

Lance groans and rolls his eyes but nods. He grasps the cup firmly and walks over to Keith’s table. Be nice. Be nice. Lance can try but he's at the end of his rope with 'nice' today. Keith's so ingrained in his book that he doesn’t even look up across the table as Lance puts down his cup.

“Thanks Hunk,” Keith mumbles and absently reaches for his coffee.

“Wow, you didn’t even look up to check. You always this self-absorbed?” Lance crosses his arms.

“Sorry,” Keith says, sitting up straight and closing his book before Lance can eye what he’s reading. “I’m used to Hunk bringing it over. The new guy. Uh, Lance right?”

“That’s what my name tag says,” Lance quips as Keith takes a sip.

Keith pauses for a moment, a thoughtful look on his face. “You made this one,” he comments.

“Yeah? So?” Lance raises a brow suspiciously. He knows he made it right so if he suggests--Keith smirks and Lance’s heart thrums a little.

That’s a smile. Directed at him. Holy shit. 

“You’re a little heavy handed on the sugar. Probably involuntary. You have a sweet tooth?” Keith asks as he takes another sip.

Lance flushes a little because yeah, he does. He loves sweets and he does go a little heavy on the sugar when it comes to his own coffee. Must have overdone it on this order and didn't even notice. At least Keith didn’t pitch a fit like some customers when their coffee is wrong.

“Sorry if it’s too much,” Lance apologizes, feeling dumb. “I can make you another.”

“No, it’s good,” Keith tells him. “Hunk keeps trying to get me to lay off the sweets. So he’s lighter with it. I’ll ask for you from now on if I want something sweet.”

Lance definitely blushes then. Is he...Is Keith hitting on him? Maybe? All that work to get this guy to say just one nice thing to him and all it took was messing up his order? He was such a jerk before! But now he’s suddenly nice? For some reason, he can’t trust it.

“What’s with the nice guy shtick?” Lance eyes him skeptically.

“Shtick?” Keith repeats with confusion and a raised brow.

“Every other time you come in here you ignore me. I try to be polite, even friendly. Wave and stuff but you act like I’m not even there,” Lance explains. “It’s kinda rude.”

“What? I didn’t--Oh!” Keith holds in a snort and takes another sip of his coffee. “No wonder you’ve been salty at the register. Sorry. Got a lot on my mind. Next time just say hey. You’ll catch my attention.”

That last sentence feels fraught with implication but Lance can’t be sure. He just nods and heads back to the counter to join Hunk before he can make a fool of himself. By the time he gets over there, Keith is back to reading.

“So, how’d it go?” Hunk smirks.

“I dunno. He’s weird,” Lance frowns. “I guess he was nice but...it’s hard to tell if he’s being genuine. Wish he’d take his stupid sunglasses off. Can’t tell if he’s even looking at me when he talks.”

Hunk chuckles again, holding in the bulk of his laughter as he shakes his head. Hunk returns to taking orders while Lance mixes the drinks, keeping an eye on how much sugar he adds thanks to Keith’s comment about it.

Every once in awhile he looks up to check on Keith. He’s reading again but he periodically puts the book down and talks into a recording device. He dictates his notes? For class? He takes his studies very seriously then. Lance wishes he'd done something similar when he was in school, then he could nap during class without missing anything. 

At one point Keith’s phone goes off and Lance’s curiosity has him eyeing him again. Keith answers without delay. Whoever it is must be close to him because two sentences in he’s already smiling. Then a few minutes later he’s laughing. It’s striking to see and Lance clutches his heart melodramatically behind the counter like he’s been shot.

“Oh my god,” Lance gapes and looks to Hunk. “He can laugh.”

Hunk snorts like that’s the funniest thing Lance has said all day. Lance can't take his eyes off the spectacle.

“Drinks for table three,” Hunk hands them off to him with a chuckle.

When Lance walks by to drop off coffee for a table of college girls he hears Keith. He’s still chatting with whoever called him but he’s talking in another language. Lance has watched enough illegally torrented anime to recognize Japanese when he hears it. Maybe he’ll get to use some of what he knows when talking to Keith in the future.

That is, if he still wants to talk to him. Like, if he’s interested still. No guarantees.

After the call is over, Keith shakes his head with a sigh. He gathers up his things and carefully maneuvers himself through the throng of chairs towards the front door.

“You got a test tomorrow right?” Hunk asks. “Aerodynamics? Or is it avionics? I get them confused.”

“Avionics is the electronic systems. What Matt’s studying,” Keith explains, probably for the millionth time but he doesn't look peeved about it. “But, yeah. My aerodynamics paper is due with the exam tomorrow. Can’t fly that shuttle, doesn’t mean I can’t build one.”

“So you’ll be here later tomorrow, to celebrate with Matt and Professor Shirogane?” Hunk asks.

“He hates when you call him that,” Keith sighs. “But yeah, we’ll be here, provided things go well.”

“Great, I’ll reserve your table for you,” Hunk says, scribbling down a note on the calendar. “And Matt likes the red wine…”

Lance peers up from cleaning off the milk steamer to look at Keith but he’s already turning to go.

“Good luck,” Lance calls out and Keith stops with his hand on the door.

“Appreciate it,” Keith nods. “Thanks for the coffee. And conversation. Later.”

He goes out the door and stands there for a moment before turning and walking down the street. Lance feels his face tug into a smile. He actually said something back to him.

“Oh ho? Starting to change your mind about him?” Hunk elbows him.

“Yeah, maybe a little,” Lance admits. “He’s still a pretentious douchebag. Sun’s going down and he’s still wearing those dumb sunglasses. He’d look better without them.”

“I think he’d disagree,” Hunk smiles. “Come on, need to clean and ready for the night crowd.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you like the chapter, give it a kudos! If you really like it, leave a comment! Don't know what to say?   
> Tell me your favorite part! Or your favorite line. Rec it to a friend! Leave nothing but hearts. 
> 
> Anything to show you appreciate the work will do. Writers love that shit. We eat it for breakfast, lunch, and dinner.
> 
> (Love Klance? Go Check out my other Klance fics! Check tags and read responsibly!)


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lance discovers Keith's a bit of a weeb
> 
> Shiro and Keith converse a little in Japanese
> 
> Lance says something inspirational

 

Lance hates working in the morning. Mostly cause he’s not a morning person himself. He has to drag himself out of bed, brush his teeth with a groan, and zombie shuffle his way down the street to the bus stop. By the time it arrives a block from the shop, he’s woken enough to not get killed crossing the street the rest of the way but only barely.

“Ugh...Hunk...caffeinate me,” Lance moans as he opens the door.

“Here,” Hunk smirks as he hands him a cup with his apron.

Lance takes a drink and grimaces. Needs more sugar. He takes it over to the dispenser and dumps two little bags into it, stirring slowly with a sigh. After he takes another sip.

“Perfect,” he sighs as he ties his apron.

“Come on,” Hunk pats him and directs him to the counter. “I’ll get the muffins in while you brew up some more coffee.”

Lance acquiesces in the form of another zombie groan and gets started. He makes three fresh pots and serves a dozen people before Hunk gets back to help with the orders.

Once it hits about nine the people slow down a little, allowing him a moment to finish his now very cold coffee. He empties his drink in a few long gulps and tosses the cup in the wastebasket across the counter with a flick of his wrist.

“Three points,” Lance smirks as the door opens.

It’s Keith. 9:15, right on time. Like clockwork.

“Hey, morning,” Lance nods.

“Morning,” Keith answers back with a sigh. He sounds just as tired as Lance but at least he replied.

“You look terrible. Late night with someone special?” Lance asks suggestively, already starting on his order.

“I wish,” Keith shakes his head and pulls his card with a yawn. “The only one getting lucky lately is my computer.”

“Oh right you had that paper, I forgot,” Lance nods and takes the card to swipe. “You finished though right?”

“Around 3 am,” Keith sighs. “How about you?”

“Just me, a two-liter of mountain dew, and a whole lot of Call of Duty,” Lance shrugs with a laugh. “Guess neither of us knows the right way to spend an evening.”

Keith chuckles at that and takes back his card. “My usual table open?”

Lance leans and looks behind him.

“Yeah, it’s clear but I need to wipe it down. I’ll be over in a second,” Lance tells him.

Keith nods and takes his seat, pulling out his phone and hooking his headphones into it. He tells Siri to play his music for him as he relaxes at the table.

Lance fixes up his drink, doing it his way with the extra sugar. He waits for Hunk to get back to man the counter before leaving with Keith’s drink in one hand and a rag in the other.

“Your drink,” Lance announces, not sure if Keith’s eyes are open with the way he’d leaned back in his seat. No response, so he taps his shoulder. To that he sits up and pulls out a headphone.

“Sorry,” Keith apologizes.

“Hold this. I’ll wipe down the table,” Lance says as he hands off the drink.

Keith sips it and smirks noting the flavor. Sweet again. Lance smiles and swipes the cloth over the table to get some crumbs off it.

“What were you listening to?” Lance asks in an attempt to be friendly again.

“Uh, nothing,” Keith says a little too quickly, taking the other headphone out and making a move to put them away. If he didn’t know any better, he’d think Keith was embarrassed. “You wouldn’t like it.”

Lance scoffs. What a pretentious--he plucks the headphone from Keith’s fingers to put in his ear. It sounds a little like a mix of rock and pop. Maybe? When they start to sing he realizes what he’s listening to.

“Well, if I weren’t a total nerd...I’d say you were listening to pop,” Lance says. “But since I’m anime trash, I’m gonna go with...the opening from Black Butler?”

Keith swallows and nods his head, a tinting of pink shame on his cheeks. So he can look contrite, Lance notes.

“Nothing to be embarrassed about,” Lance rolls his eyes. “I knew what it was after all. So that just makes us two nerds instead of one. You have a favorite? Anime? Or character?”

“Uh, sure. I like...Tousen,” Keith flushes red and Lance’s heart nearly stops.

Oh no he was so cool before and now he’s too cute. What an adorable anime weeb.

“From Bleach? He’s the blind guy right?” Lance asks and takes a seat for a second. “He’s pretty cool. Bad guy though. Bet you just want his cool as hell shades. Nerd.”

“Yeah,” Keith smirks. “That must be it.”

“I like all the chicks but I think my favorite is Rukia. She’s cute but hella strong,” Lance grins. “Tiny but could break a man in half.”

“Lance! Need you back at the counter,” Hunk calls over.

“Gotta get back to work,” Lance stands with a sigh, clearly disappointed. “Talk more later.”

“Sure. Looking forward to it,” Keith nods with a half smile and puts his headphones back in.

Lance gets back to the counter but spares a glance over at Keith’s table more than a few ties. Keith sips his coffee and rests his chin in his palm as he listens to his music. It looks to Lance like he’s purposefully looking away from the counter so as not to meet Lance’s eyes. A good thing too or he’d see Lance blatantly staring.

When Keith drinks his coffee he tilts his head down after and licks his lips before smiling at the drink. He’s thinking about him and that makes Lance’s cheeks flush.

“Ohhh, you’ve got a crush,” Hunk snickers once there’s a lull in customers again.

“Shut up,” Lance whispers urgently, not wanting Keith to hear and look over at them.

“Ask him out. He likes you. I can tell. And I know he’s single,” Hunk elbows.

“No way,” Lance shakes his head disbelieving. “Cool guy like that? He’s got someone.”

“Nah,” Hunk assures him.

“If he’s interested then _he_ can ask _me_ ,” Lance huffs indignantly.

“He won’t do that,” Hunk says, frowning. “You work here. Imagine if you said no. It would make it weird around the shop. Plus he doesn’t think he’s...uh...nevermind.”

“He doesn’t think what? You can’t just trail off like that,” Lance eyes him.

“I can and I will,” Hunk smiles. “You want to work after five today? You’ll get double time if you stay till nine.”

Lance considers it. Normally, he leaves before the night crowd but rent’s coming up, might be nice to have a little extra cash.

After dark is when they serve wine and such. The cafe often has some slam poets show up for a reading or a local musician play piano. It’s for the older crowd in general so it’s a little boring for Lance’s tastes.

Suddenly he remembers Keith is supposed to be coming with friends after taking his exam. To celebrate.

“Sure, I don’t have anywhere to be,” Lance shrugs nonchalantly, as if he wasn’t just thinking about making a special drink for Keith to congratulate him.

Keith’s gathered up his things and making his way to leave again for class. Now’s his chance to say something to him again. Maybe something along the lines of--

“Good luck on that test, Keith,” Hunk calls out before Lance can, making him pout. He wanted to be the one who said that.

“Thanks Hunk,” Keith nods.

“See you after,” Lance adds and Keith’s cheeks tinge a little.

“Sure,” he says, scratching his neck. “Take care.”

*****

It’s a long day for Lance. Lots of coffee and snack orders. More than one re-made drink but luckily no meltdowns over botched orders. Hunk even gets the chance to show him the ovens when there’s a lull again. It’s not enough to start making the food but enough to familiarize himself with the dials and knobs.

They’d probably start him off with something simple like cookies but not for a good couple of weeks. For the time being, Hunk takes care of the recipes. Which is fine with Lance. He never was really good at baking. Give him a wok and some vegetables and he’ll go to town but...cake? Scones? He’d rather not.

It’s dark when the night crowd shuffles in. People stop asking for coffee and start ordering things like fruit teas and glasses of wine. Hunk went ahead and made some cheesecake and some other delectables that Lance has to write down as the special on the board. He’s standing on the chair, scribbling out the price on the chalkboard when the three of them walk in.

Lance recognizes the one in glasses almost immediately. He’s seen him before over at Pidge’s place. Her brother. A little older than her and just as smart. When Keith mentioned a Matt before he didn’t think it was the same one. Small world.

He’s explaining something sciency, the vocabulary of which is melting Lance’s brain. God he sounds just like her and not necessarily in a good way.

“Enough school talk,” says the calming voice of the oldest among them. “We’re here to take a break.”

Must be the professor Hunk mentioned. Shirogane. Or something like that. He’s got a palm flat on Keith’s shoulder that the he keeps trying to shrug off.

“I don’t need you to show me the way,” Keith huffs. “Been here more times than you have.”

“I know, I know. Let me be the big brother every once in awhile alright?” he chuckles. “Hey Hunk. All things good?”

“Yep. I’ll bring the wine in a bit,” Hunk nods. “Want some cookies too?”

“Definitely,” Matt nods. “Got peanut butter?””

None of them take notice of Lance on the chair and go right past him to take their seats just as someone is warming up on their guitar. Lance scrunches up a frown as he hops down and heads to the counter to pull out the wine glasses. Keith didn’t even say hi.

“That Keith’s brother?” Lance asks. He doesn’t see much of a resemblance other than black hair. Man is he tall! And built like a brick house! No professor has any business looking that good.

“Nah, his guardian. But he’s too young for being a dad,” Hunk shrugs. “He’s been taking care of Keith since he was a kid. They might as well be brothers.”

“Huh,” Lance nods.

“Is that a ‘that’s interesting’-huh or a ‘wow what a hottie’-huh?” Hunk asks with suggestive brows.

“Shut up,” Lance frowns. It was more of a ‘hope I make a good impression’ kind of huh.

Hunk goes ahead and takes the glasses over with a bottle of California Red. He fills them and lets them know what the specials are for the night. Takes a few orders and tells a joke that gets Shiro and Matt laughing while Keith shakes his head with a smile. Hunk returns and slaps the order slip onto Lance’s forehead.

“Set it up and take it over. Take your time,” Hunk adds. “It’s usually pretty slow and the customers are pretty lax this time of night.”

Lance pulls out a few plates. One for a couple of garlic pretzels. A slice of carrot cake and strawberry cheesecake. And a cheese danish. He wonders who ordered what since Hunk didn’t deign to include that information. He’ll just have to guess.

He carries the tray over and places it on the table next to theirs to pull off each individual item.

“Danish?” Lance asks and Matt raises a hand so he hands it to him. “Pretzels?”

“That’s for the table,” Shiro nods and thanks him as he places it in the center so everyone can reach.

“I’m gonna guess the cheesecake is Keith’s and the carrot cake is the Professor’s,” Lance guesses and puts them down when Shiro gives him an approving nod. “If you need anything else, just flag me down.”

“Hey, I know you,” Matt points. “You’re friends with my sister.”

Shiro nudges Keith and speaks in a low voice.

“ ** _Kore wa kōhī no otokodesu ka?_** ” Shiro smiles a little.

“ _Hai. Kare wa kawaīdesu ne?_ ” Keith asks back.

Lance gets the feeling they’re talking about him but he’s not sure why. He recognizes one word specifically out of the bundle. Kawai. He knows that means cute. It brings a little heat to his cheeks but he tries pushing it back.

“ _ **Hai. Kare wa shiranai?**_ ” Shiro asks, his face incredulous and Keith shakes his head.

“ _Īe, kare wa watashi ga jiko kyūshū shite iru to omou. Watashi wa Itsumo sangurasu o kite irukaradesu_ ,” Keith tells him and Shiro laughs, taking a sip of his wine.

Lance thinks he catches something about sunglasses, but he could be wrong. God he wishes he'd brushed up on his Japanese. It's hard to catch anything, they talk so fast.

“ _ **Anata wa jiko kyūshū sa rete imasu**_ ,” Shiro jokes and Keith punches his shoulder. “ _ **Anata wa mōmokudearu koto o kare ni tsutaemasu ka?**_ ”

“ _Īe. Soshite damare, Shiro_ ,” Keith flushes a little and nods in Lance’s direction. “ _Ransu wa osoraku sukoshi nihongo o shitte irudarou. Watashi wa kare ni shirasetaku arimasen._ ”

Ah, he did catch some of that. Something about Lance speaking or understanding them. He makes a face that shows he’s certainly not keen on being the subject of their conversation while he’s unable to contribute. Shiro looks him over with a scrutinizing eye.

“ ** _Hai, kare wa watashitachi ga kare ni tsuite hanashite iru koto wa machigainaku shitte imasu. Watashitachiha hanashite wa naranai_** ,” Shiro chuckles and clears his throat. “You’re Lance then. Hunk’s new barista.”

He reaches across the table to shake Lance’s hand and Lance takes it.

“Nice to meet you, Lance. Sit with us a bit,” Shiro gestures to the chair next to Matt. Lance drops into it with a smile.

“You’re Professor Shirogane, from the college?” Lance asks. Shiro groans and wipes his face before pointing an accusing finger over at Hunk who just laughs and laughs behind the counter.

“I’m an adjunct professor. I teach _three_ classes,” he elaborates. “Hunk likes pushing my buttons and making me feel old. Just Shiro is fine.”

They talk for a bit but Keith doesn’t contribute much after that. He just drinks from his glass and smiles at the conversations.

Matt and Lance talk a little about video games, something he and his sister share in common. They even talk about the musician on stage a bit and Lance reveals that he used to play guitar when he was little. Still has an old acoustic gathering dust in his closet. Shiro comments that Keith was good on the piano too but he gave it up for more scholarly pursuits.

The bottle at the table slowly empties and Lance switches back to job mode.

“Another bottle?”

“Yes!” Matt grins and jostles Keith a little as Lance gets up to retrieve it for them. “Come on Keith, you’re falling behind.”

“Maybe only a little more,” Keith assents, emphasizing with his pinched fingers. “Don’t need navigating to be any harder than it already is.”

“It’s not like you’re our designated driver,” Matt jokes and the whole table laughs at that.

“Who knows, maybe he’ll be better drunk than the two of us sober,” Shiro chuckles. “How many cars have you wrecked Matt?”

“Oh come on, that was for a science experiment! You can’t just--”

“Bathroom break,” Keith announces and stands from the table.  
  
“Need a hand Keith?” Shiro asks, hand out ready to assist.

“No, I’m fine,” he shakes his head and makes his way to the restroom.

If Lance hadn’t already been on his way back with a new bottle, Keith might have broken his nose.

He trips over a chair someone left pulled out and heads straight for the floor. Lance drops the bottle and just catches him as he crashes into him. The both of them hit the ground hard, Lance on his ass and Keith on his knees. Both let out pained groans from the rough landing.

“You okay Keith?” Shiro worriedly asks as he stands from the table.

“I’m _fine_ ,” he calls back and adjusts his shades. “Fuck, that hurt,” Keith huffs. “You okay?”

“I’m good,” Lance groans, though his ass is going to have a bruise on it. He doesn’t have time to enjoy the proximity of their bodies before Keith stands and pulls him up to his feet.

“Anything else in the way to the bathroom?”

Lance checks and picks up the wine bottle, which thankfully didn’t break. He kicks the chair aside so that it’s out of the path again.

“No, it’s clear,” he tells him. “The wine probably didn’t help but you likely could have avoided it if you’d taken off your shades.”

Keith snorts a little and dusts off his knees.

“I doubt taking them off would have helped,” Keith chuckles and Lance has to avert his gaze so his heart won’t jump out of his throat at that smile. “Thanks for catching me. Owe you one.”

“Sure,” Lance nods, still looking away as Keith continues on his trek.

He drops the bottle off with Shiro and Matt, taking a seat to rub his sore ass. Right on the tailbone. Not the kind of ache he wants. Matt makes a move to fill up everyone’s glass but Shiro stops him from refilling Keith’s.

“I think he’s had enough,” Shiro says.

“Because he tripped?” Matt rolls his eyes. “Keith falls all the time, Shiro. He’s fine. He’s not a baby anymore.”

“I know that,” Shiro says, a little more stern than necessary. He looks pensively into his wine glass with a sigh. “Lance, can I get a bag of ice?”

“Sure,” Lance nods. Not a bad idea, wish it had been his. “Ice pack coming right up.”

By the time Lance returns with a bag of ice, Keith’s already back at the table. He’s laughing at something Matt said and sipping his wine. His fingers rub gently on his knees, massaging them through the fabric. Lance takes a seat and slides the bag of ice wrapped in a clean washcloth over the table.

“Here, for your knees,” Lance says and Keith’s fingers run over the bag before gripping it.

“Thanks,” Keith nods and pats it on the bruising area.

“So Lance,” Shiro points and swirls his wine. He seems to be more relaxed now that Keith looks alright. “You in school?”

Keith huffs, and it looks to Lance like he’s annoyed. Either by the topic or the fact that Shiro initiated it. He drinks his wine as if bracing for an unpleasant subject.

“I was. Community college. Marine biology for two years,” Lance shrugs, not at all embarrassed by it.

“What were you hoping to do with it?” Shiro asks, and Lance swears he hears Keith grit his teeth.

Wait...is he being vetted? This hasn’t happened to him since high school.

“It’s funny but I always wanted to be a deep-sea diver,” Lance perks up and laughs a little. “Kinda the opposite of you guys huh? You all want to go into space with your aerodynamics while I want to go to the bottom of the ocean to get eaten by a shark.”

“That’s a common misconception,” Matt starts. “See, we just want to design the thing that goes into space. We don’t want to go there ourselves.”

“I did,” Keith announces and the table goes deathly quiet.

No one wants to look up from their plates. Feels like it’s a touchy subject and Lance isn’t sure he wants to be in the middle of it. Keith’s whole body looks stiff and tense, as if holding something back. Both Shiro and Matt look guiltily at their drinks. Matt takes a big gulp before sighing.

“Yeah, I know, man,” Matt says quietly as he pats his shoulder.

“Why don’t we listen to the music for a bit?” Shiro suggests with a smile, trying to keep it light.

“Think I’ll go get some air,” Keith stands from the table and makes a beeline for the door.

“Keith--” Shiro starts but Matt pulls him back down to his chair, shaking his head.

“Leave him alone, Shiro,” Matt tells him.

“It wasn’t something I said? Was it?” Lance asks, just to make sure.

“Nah, he just...hates being reminded that he can’t go. That the closest he’ll get to space is in his shuttle designs and algorithms,” Matt smiles but there’s a sadness to it.

He wonders why that is but it seems rude to ask. Too personal and none of his business.

“Is he gonna be okay?” Lance asks, eyeing the storefront.

“No, he’s not,” Matt shakes his head and Shiro deflates. “But he’ll have to make do. Life’s not fair and Keith knows that better than most people.”

Three songs go by and Lance brings orders to the different patrons still listening to the lone guitarist play. Every few minutes he looks at the front of the store and he spots Keith’s red jacket through the blinds. He’s standing outside, leaning against the window and looking up, taking deep breaths. Hunk sighs sympathetically, apparently privy to these reactions.

Lance feels bad for him. He doesn’t know the whole story but it sounds like it sucks. He finds himself mixing a drink together. Just some hot chocolate with cinnamon and whipped cream. The way his mom used to make it when he was down.

“Be right back,” Lance tells Hunk as he shoulders into a jacket.

He goes out and closes the door behind him to eye the sidewalk. Keith’s just a few steps down the street and now sitting at one of the outdoor tables. One hand rubbing his eyes under the shades and the other gently smacking a balled fist on the surface of the table in slow beats. Lance pads up to him and Keith lets out a deep sigh.

“Go away,” he grumbles.  
  
“Fine, I’ll take your hot beverage with me,” Lance huffs and Keith sits up suddenly.

“Wait, sorry,” Keith sighs and adjusts his glasses. “I thought...you were Shiro. He means well but sometimes...I just want to punch him in his stupid mouth.”

Lance smirks and walks to the other seat, drags it over to be next to Keith then carefully sitting down so as not to hurt his ass further. He puts the drink down into Keith’s hands.

“Go ahead. It’s on me,” Lance tells him.

“Now I owe you two,” Keith smirks and sips the drink with an appreciative hum.

“Least I can do,” Lance says. “Literally. That’s the cheapest thing on the menu.”

Keith snorts and drinks more, stifling his laughter with cinnamon and chocolate. A smile suits his face more than that somber frown.

“Anyway, you could totally go into space,” Lance gestures to the stars. “I know there’s a height requirement for airplane pilots but you’re what? 5’2”? You could totally grow another two inches in the next couple of years.”

“Yeah, sure,” Keith chuckles softly into his drink.

“And even if you can’t, like...restrictions change all the time. As tech improves and stuff like that. Before you know it, paraplegics will be flying planes and shuttles,” Lance explains. “Who knows how different everything will be in ten years. Or five. Or even next year. Hell, tomorrow everything could change and you could be shooting off into space as soon as you get your Masters.”

Keith’s awfully quiet. Lance glances over and finds him nibbling on his bottom lip, his hand firmly clenching the cup while the other massages his knee. His head dips and he shakes it with a pathetic laugh.

“Yeah, maybe you’re right,” Keith says and gulps the last of the hot chocolate.

“I’m definitely right,” Lance nods then lowers his voice to a serious tone. “Don’t let anyone tell you you can’t do something. You’re hella smart. You have a real chance at doing something amazing. Not like me.”

“You’re pretty amazing already,” Keith comments but from the way he bites his lips in, he hadn’t meant to say that aloud. He covers his mouth, obviously scolding himself for speaking before thinking.

Definitely hitting on him.

“So are you,” Lance flushes and Keith tilts his head towards him, a little surprise on his face.

He watches as Keith removes the hand from his mouth and places it on Lance’s shoulder. When Lance does nothing to stop him the hand inches towards his neck, slowly exploring closer and closer to Lance’s chin until he gets it between his thumb and forefinger. Is he...going to kiss him?

Lance’s breath shallows, little puffs of clouds escaping into the cold air as Keith leans in. He shouldn’t. Not here and not now. Lance puts a hand on Keith’s and pulls it away. Keith clenches his jaw, shame coloring his cheeks at the notion that he misread the situation.

“It’s not that I don’t want to,” Lance clarifies, not liking that hurt puppy look at all. “I’m on the clock...and I don’t want to get fired for kissing a customer.”

“Right,” Keith nods with a sigh, disappointment evident. “I shouldn’t have--”

“But after I clock out tomorrow,” Lance flushes and averts his gaze. “Maybe we could get some waffles at Ihop? Your treat?”

Keith’s brows raise over his shades with surprise and it takes a second for him to answer back. He nods and rubs the back of his neck with a small smile.

“I’d...like that,” Keith says.

“Tomorrow then,” Lance grins, getting a modicum of composure back. “Shift ends at five.”

“It’s a date,” Keith says and extends a hand to shake.

“Yeah, it is,” Lance chuckles and squeezes it.

  


Notes: Shiro and Keith’s translated conversation for those who want it

**_S- Is this the coffee guy?_ **

_K- Yeah, is he cute?_

_**S- Yes. He doesn’t know?** _

_K- No, he thinks I’m self-absorbed. Because I wear sunglasses everywhere._

_**S- You are self-absorbed. Are you going to tell him you’re blind?** _

_K- No. And shut up Shiro. Lance probably knows a little Japanese. I don’t want him to know._

**_S- Yeah, he definitely knows we’re talking about him. Should probably stop._ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you like the chapter, give it a kudos! If you really like it, leave a comment! Don't know what to say?   
> Tell me your favorite part! Or your favorite line. Rec it to a friend! Leave nothing but hearts. 
> 
> Anything to show you appreciate the work will do. Writers love that shit. We eat it for breakfast, lunch, and dinner.
> 
> (Love Klance? Go Check out my other Klance fics! Check tags and read responsibly!)
> 
> (If you REALLY REALLY REALLY like it, go check out my other Voltron fic too! Leave a comment or two!)


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keith overthinks his clothes
> 
> Lance daydreams
> 
> Keith's a super nerd at dinner

“Oh my god, what am I doing?” Keith moans into his hands.

He’s sitting on his bed, tapping his foot in nervousness. His fingers slide up into his hair to run through and tug as he tries to think. There’s a pile of clothes on his bed, ones Shiro marked for him on the tags so he knows what colors and styles they are. So he can match them without having to think too hard.

And right now he’s thinking way too hard.

He hears Shiro step to the doorway and lean on the frame.

“You still haven’t picked anything out?” Shiro asks. Keith knows he’s smiling at him and trying to hold back a laugh.

“I don’t know what to wear,” Keith mumbles into his fingers.

“It’s not a candlelit dinner at a fancy restaurant Keith,” Shiro chuckles and steps into the room.

“Wish it was, then it’d be easier for me to cancel,” Keith sighs. “I don’t think I even own a tie.”

“Sure you do, you wore one for my wedding remember?” Shiro tells him, going through the pile and sorting out the acceptable from the unacceptable.

“Is he still trying to figure out what to wear?” calls Shiro’s wife from the kitchen.

“No--”

“Yes,” Shiro says over him. “Losing his mind over a first date. With a coffee barista.”

“What time again?” she asks.

“He’s got...five hours before his shift ends,” Shiro calls back and Keith falls backward on the bed with an exasperated moan, covering his face in shame. “Don’t worry. You’ll look great.”

That’s not really what Keith’s worried about. Sure, he wants to look nice for his date but...he wonders how long in before Lance realizes. Before it all clicks. Every time that happens with someone, they start treating him differently. Like he’s fragile. Like its too much work to keep up with him.

He pulls off his glasses and tries scanning the room, well aware that he will never see everything. All he can catch are some extremely vague shapes of color in his periphery and nothing but a grey blur everywhere else.

When he was younger he never wanted the shades, because he could see fine and they made him conspicuous. But the older he got, the less he saw, the more he needed to scan his eyes around trying to get an idea of his surroundings. The more he did so, the more it unnerved people around him. He could feel their discomfort with him not meeting their eye.

Now he can’t walk down the street without feeling like he _has_ to wear them.

Man is he ever grateful he doesn’t need his cane to get to the cafe. It’s always collapsed and in his pocket for when he goes somewhere unfamiliar but he hardly needs it for campus or the nearby blocks. As dense as Lance is, he sees that then there’s no way he won’t figure it out and then everything will fall apart.

And he really doesn’t want that.

He likes the way Lance treats him now. Doesn’t walk on eggshells around him like he’s afraid of hurting his feelings. Makes jokes about him and his glasses. Scolds him for unintentional rudeness. And he’s...sweet. Nice. That encouragement from the night before, about making his dreams come true...Keith couldn’t stop grinning the whole way home.

Lance thinks he can make it into space one day. It’s naive and impossible but it brings him comfort nonetheless.

“What you thinking about Keith?” Shiro pauses, brow raised and a suspicious smile on his face.

“Flying to the moon,” Keith sighs, fully aware that he’s smiling like an idiot.

*****

Lance has burned his hand three times today and he feels like an idiot. Twice on the espresso machine and once when he dropped a coffee without the lid secure. It’s just barely noon. He’s not ashamed to say he’s been distracted by his thoughts of Keith.

A date. Wow. When’s the last time he went on one of those?

And with such a hot guy?

“AGH!” Lance winces as he burns his finger on the steamer.

“Go sit down for a minute Lance,” Hunk shakes his head. “Before there’s nothing left of your fingers. Take some ice.”

Lance nods, scooping ice into a cup and sitting down in a chair before shoving his hand deep inside with a sigh. He looks up at the clock and shakes his head. Five more hours? He has to keep working for five more hours?

Hunk comes over and rests a hand on his shoulder.

“You okay man? You’ve been bumbling around the machines all morning,” Hunk says, eyes sympathetic. He hands Lance some napkins and a few Bandaids.

“Thanks,” Lance weakly smiles as he dries off his hands. He smooths a few bandages over his knuckles and the back of his hand with a sigh. “I’m alright. Just...not all here today.”

“How about you just work the register and the food today? I’ll handle the hot drinks and ovens, cool?” Hunk smiles and Lance nods his thanks.

Keith didn’t come in for his morning coffee, which even Hunk commented was odd. Since then he’s been caught looking over at the entry multiple times, expecting him to come in late but disappointed each time the door closes with a different person in front of it. A distressing thought comes to mind as he punches in a woman’s order.

What if Keith never arrives?

Aw, man, that would suck. It would suck so much. Lance pouts despite his attempts to be friendly and personable with the customers.

Slowly the time ticks by. Two o’clock. Three o’clock. Three fifteen, Keith’s usual afternoon time. Nothing. Then four o'clock. Four thirty. Quarter to five.

When it hits five Lance looks at the door but it doesn’t open. With a dejected sigh he takes off his apron and hangs it up. Unbuttons his top button and takes a seat at a table. Keith’s table. He flags down Hunk asking if he’ll make him a coffee before he heads home.

Hunk drops it off at the table and takes a seat.

“What’s up today? You seem down,” Hunk pats his shoulder.

“Keith didn’t come today,” Lance shrugs. “I uh, asked him out on a date for after shift.”

“Really?” Hunk grins and gives his shoulder a squeeze. “That’s great!”

“Yeah, but it’s...twenty after. I think he’s standing me up,” Lance sighs and drinks his coffee. It’s not sweet enough but he doesn’t want to get up to fix it.

“Call him,” Hunk suggests and Lance lowers his face into the table with a groan. “You didn’t get his number?”

“No,” Lance whines. “I figured he’d be here.”

“Could be nerves. Can’t remember the last time Keith went out with anyone,” Hunk muses. “Don’t leave until after you finish your coffee. Give him a chance. Could be something held him up.”

Lance nods, his nose squashed against the table.

He’s not sure why this brought him down so bad. Just really looking forward to spending some time with this guy without having to take his order first or bring him a drink. A chance to get away from the cafe for once. A chance to sit closer than just at the same table and talk.

Maybe get to kiss those lips.

Lance swallows and surrounds his face with his arms, burying his blush in his sleeves. Could have done that last night if he hadn’t been such a chicken. Sure, his reasons for stopping were mostly attributed to his job. But he’d also wanted some privacy. So that he could take those sunglasses off to look at his face...maybe even thread his fingers into those thick curls of hair without thinking someone might be watching. Get his hands under that shir--

Someone clears their throat over him, making him sit up with a jump, his heart thundering in his chest.

“S-Sorry I’m late,” Keith rubs his neck. “I got held up and I forgot to get your number so I could--”

He made it!

“I’m just glad you're here,” Lance laughs pathetically, taking in his appearance.

Black jacket with a red shirt underneath. Black skinny jeans with matching boots. His hair pulled back with a red tie. And of course, those same shades perched high on his nose. Oh, he has an earring. A silver stud. Never noticed it before with his hair messy about his face.

He clearly took the time to tidy up so he’d look nice. For Lance.

Makes him wish he’d made more of the same effort but Lance didn’t even think to pack a change of clothes. He’ll just have to make do with his black slacks and white button-up that smells like coffee and blueberry scones.

“You look great,” Lance compliments and Keith looks relieved beyond all measure. “Wish I’d worn something nicer.”

“I overdid it,” Keith admits. “I wasn’t sure what to wear. It’s...been awhile.”

“That why you were late?” Lance grins.

“No,” Keith lies with a frown.

“Whatever,” Lance rolls his eyes and stands up. He tosses the empty cup into the trashcan across the way with ease. “Three points! Write it down Hunk!”

“Got it,” Hunk answers and puts three tally marks on the chalkboard.

“Let’s get out of here,” Lance grabs his hand and hurriedly pulls him to the storefront.

Keith's mouth opens to object to the pulling but closes as Lance drags him out the front door and down a block before Lance lets go. Once far enough from the shop, he releases Keith’s hand with a blush.

“Sorry for tugging you like a boat,” Lance tells him. “I’m just...uh, really ready to eat.”

“Do you even know where the IHOP is?” Keith asks. His steps are slow and calculated as he follows next to Lance.

“Sure it’s…” Lance stops and eyes the streets. “...I’m pretty sure it’s…”

Keith sighs and shakes his head. “Stick with me then. You’ll just get us lost.”

“Says you,” Lance huffs. “I happen to have an excellent sense of direction. I’m just new to the area. Only moved here like a month ago.”

“Then let a local show you the way,” Keith smirks. “Follow me. I know a better place anyway.”

Keith walks them at a leisurely pace, turning his head to listen for people so he doesn’t crash into anyone. Counts his steps and stops at the tactile paving stones at the corners of streets made especially for people like him. Luckily he only has to cross once and he can hear when it’s time to walk. He keeps his hand in his jacket pocket, fingers rubbing on his collapsible cane for reassurance.

“So what kind of place is it?” Lance asks, his eyes taking in the different storefronts.

“A diner. It’s old but the food’s good and the people there know me,” Keith explains.

“Oh yeah? It’s good?” Lance asks.

“Very,” Keith nods. “Here it is.”

Small is Lance’s first thought. It used to be a barbershop, the old pole spinning red and blue on the outside. There’s a special board on the sidewalk with chalk scribbled on it in big loopy letters. Three egg omelet with all the fixings, 2.99. Sounds pretty good to Lance. He hopes there are waffles too.

He pulls the door handle open, making it jingle and bows before Keith.

“After you,” he says eloquently with a wink. Keith snorts but steps through the door.

Within seconds someone says hello to Keith.

“Evening Keith! You’re early!” says a mustached man at the counter. “Your usual table isn’t clear. Give me a minute.”

“Take your time Coran,” Keith tells him and leans against the counter.

Lance watches as the old guy hands off the spatula to another guy and heads for a table. He gathers up the leftovers from the last customers and with it all piled up in his arms he wipes down the table with his free hand.

“Usual table? You’ve got one here too?” Lance asks. “Jeez, and I thought our cafe was special.”

“It is special,” Keith tells him. “I just...I live a very routine life. I’m here every Tuesday at six. Shay’s Bistro on Wednesday. Sal’s Deli on Thursday.”

“Wow,” Lance blinks. “What do you do on Friday’s?”

“Usually just order Chinese. Sometimes try to cook for myself but I’m...not very good at it,” Keith admits.

“Would explain why you eat out so much,” Lance shrugs. “How do you afford it?”

“Scholarships and grants for school,” Keith shrugs. And disability, he adds in his mind. “I’m very smart.”

“And modest,” Lance elbows with a laugh.

“Table’s ready Keith!” Coran calls.

Keith takes his seat at the small booth. It’s definitely built just for two and not for someone with long legs. When Lance slides into the other side, their knees touch and no amount of shifting gives them extra room.

“It’s cramped,” Lance notes.

“It’ll be fine. You won’t even notice after a few minutes,” Keith smirks, taking off his jacket and hanging it off the booth divider.

Coran drops off a menu in front of Lance and states he’ll be right back. Gotta refill some drinks. Lance understands all too well and scans the menu in the meantime.

“He didn’t bring you one,” Lance comments.

“I’ve been eating here for four years,” Keith admits with a shrug. “He knows I don’t need it.”

When Coran comes back he takes Lance’s order first. The special with a Belgian waffle on the side and some orange juice. Keith orders an egg and cheese sandwich with a side order of crinkle fries.

“And the strawberry supreme milkshake for after?” Coran asks, eyebrow high as he takes in the two of them.

“Yeah,” Keith nods.

“You weren’t kidding about liking sweets huh?” Lance smirks.

“Should I bring...two straws?” Coran asks with a knowing grin.

The both of them flush. Lance laughs a little nervously and Keith clears his throat.

“Just one is fine Coran,” Keith mumbles from behind his fingers. “Thanks.”

Coran hums and takes off to get their order made. Keith looks beyond embarrassed, his face turned to the wall as he wills the heat from his cheeks. His hand squeezes his thigh in an attempt to calm his tumultuous thoughts.

Did Allura call Coran? And tell him he was coming with a date? Or did that nosy mustached fool figure it out himself? Either way, Keith doesn’t need anyone trying to help him with this. He can screw it up fine on his own, thank you very much.

“So,” Lance starts and Keith turns to face him. “You’re a bad cook?”

“Uh yeah,” Keith manages a smile.

“Me too,” Lance admits. “Er, when it comes to baking anyway. Hunk won’t let me near the ovens...but I’m decent with a wok. Make some pretty good bell peppers and beef if I do say so myself.”

“Nice,” Keith says, leaning his chin in his hand to listen to Lance. “What makes it so good?”

Lance talks while their food is cooked and continues talking after it's brought out to them. Its delicious, just as Keith said it would be, but nothing keeps Lance from speaking. Not even good food. Keith doesn’t mind. It’s a welcome break from eating alone in silence. So he just eats his sandwich and nods his head.

He doesn’t know how the time passed so quickly. Food then music then movies. It isn’t until they’re nearly done eating that Lance realizes he’s talked the whole time and Keith just let him. Just sat there sipping his milkshake not bothering to stop him.

“Geez it’s after eight,” Lance blinks dumbly at his watch.

“So?”

“So, I just chatted your ear off for over two hours,” Lance laughs. “I’m surprised you’re not sick of me.”

“If I were sick of you, I’d just leave,” Keith smirks and turns his head to the side. “I like listening to you. You don’t talk about school. Or the future. You don’t tell me I’m being unreasonable or babysit me like I’m helpless.”

“Shiro do that a lot?” Lance asks, leaning back and arms crossed. “Guy seems like a worry wart.”

Keith’s distracted again. Far away. One hand on his milkshake, thumb rubbing the glass base. The other, Lance guesses, is massaging his knee again. A nervous thing. Lance reaches under the table and puts his hand on top of Keith’s, stilling it.

“Really bothers you that he does that, doesn’t it?” Lance asks, worried.

It really does but...

“What happened to your hand?” Keith asks, changing the subject and turning his hand up to run his fingers over Lance’s.

“Burned them on the espresso machine,” Lance flushes at the feel of Keith’s fingers feeling the bandages. It’s pretty intimate the way he’s fiddling with his hand but he doesn’t comment on it, just enjoys the attention. “I’m pretty clumsy.”

“That’s familiar,” Keith mumbles with a smirk.

“Yeah, I think I heard Matt say something about you tripping a lot,” Lance starts and for a second Keith’s fingers still. “Fall all over yourself ‘cause your head’s somewhere else? In a galaxy-far-far-away, Mr. Spock?”

Keith lets out a relieved breath and laughs softly.

“Yep,” Keith nods. “You know, you combined two beloved franchises into one sentence right? An infraction of which would get lesser men killed.”

“Nerd! What are you gonna do about it? Banish me to Vulcan and sick Jabba the Hut on me?” Lance grins. “I’m shaking in my size elevens, Captain Skywalker.”

“You’re pushing your luck, Lance,” Keith smirks and gently squeezes his fingers in his hand.

“Ouch ouch ouch, I yield!” Lance chuckles and Keith relaxes his hold but doesn’t let go.

He doesn’t want the date to be over but...it doesn’t have to end here.

“Check Coran!” Keith calls out.

“Separate or…?”

“It’s on me,” Keith lets him know and turns to face Lance. “Want to get out of here?”

“And go…where?” Lance asks. “It’s cold out there.”

“My place?” Keith suggests, a blush blooming on his cheeks. “It’s not far. We can...pick up from where we started yesterday?”

Yesterday...Keith’s hand on his face leaning in. Thumb rubbing on his chin as he tilted Lance forward to receive him. Those parted lips breathing soft and inches away from pressing in to taste him. And that’s just the start. There would be more than just that?

Lance feels an excited noise bubble out of him before he nods, squeezing Keith’s hand back. He leans across the table to whisper in his ear, the words of which make Keith smile.

“Lead the way, Space Cowboy.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you like the chapter, give it a kudos! If you really like it, leave a comment! Don't know what to say?   
> Tell me your favorite part! Or your favorite line. Rec it to a friend! Leave nothing but hearts. 
> 
> Anything to show you appreciate the work will do. Writers love that shit. We eat it for breakfast, lunch, and dinner.
> 
> (Love Klance? Go Check out my other Klance fics! Check tags and read responsibly!)
> 
> (If you REALLY REALLY REALLY like it, go check out my other Voltron fic too! Leave a comment or two!)


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lance believes in ghosts
> 
> Something of Keith's breaks
> 
> Lance finally sees

Keith’s at the register paying for their meal, sliding out his card to Coran and shifting in place until he gets it back. Lance waits outside the crowded place and looks up at the moon. So dark already. The time went by so fast. 

It’s cold. Lance shivers and rolls down his sleeves, rubbing his arms for warmth. If he hadn’t been in such a hurry to get out of the cafe he’d have grabbed his coat. But he was so damn excited that Keith even showed. Couldn’t wait to get out of there with him.

And now Keith’s inviting him over to his place. 

Moving quicker than he expected but he can’t say it bothers him. It’s not like it’s the first time he’s gone home with a hot stranger. Keith’s not even a stranger. Not anymore really. 

The door opens and Keith shuffles out.

“Follow me,” Keith tilts his head and starts going off to the left. 

“It’s a little cold, mind if I hang on your arm for some warmth?” Lance asks with a shiver. “Left my coat at work.”

Normally it would bother him. Greatly. Reminds him heavily of how often Shiro grabs his arm without asking, to guide him when he doesn’t ask for help. Makes him feel patronized and babied. A stark reminder that he is blind after all. And that, despite everything, sometimes he  _ does  _ need assistance and he hates that. 

But that’s not what Lance is asking for. 

Keith offers his arm and Lance clings to it with a shiver.

“Thanks,” says Lance. 

“Sure,” Keith nods. “It’s not far. Three blocks. We can warm up at my place. Got a Keurig and I know a guy who makes some decent coffee.”

“Oh yeah, only decent?” Lance smiles and they both laugh a little.

“Yeah, well. He’s got nothing on the new guy at this coffee shop I go to,” Keith smirks.

Feels nice to guide Lance around. How hard would Matt laugh to see a blind guy leading around one fully capable of sight? Allura would think it was cute too. He’s glad neither is there to see it. That this memory will be his and his alone.

“So, you have your own place? Apartment?” Lance asks, curious. Keith nods. “Student housing?”

“It’s faculty housing technically,” Keith tilts his head. “Shiro gets the place at a discount because he’s a teacher but he stays with his wife across town. So he gave it to me. Rent’s cheaper that way and I get more room. Plus I don’t have to share with a roommate.”

“That’s nice,” Lance smiles but Keith huffs to suggest otherwise.

“Yeah but it means Shiro can come check on me whenever he wants,” Keith sighs. “Pain in my ass.”

“That’s what family’s for right?” Lance jokes, squeezing his arm.

They arrive at the apartment. Tall and built up with newer red bricks but nothing special. Looks like every other decent apartment in the city. Once they get inside the ground floor, Lance reluctantly lets go to let Keith lead the way. Keith runs a hand over the wall and hits the elevator call button. Once inside Keith runs his fingers down, stopping at the third-floor button and pressing it gently. 

“It’s nicer than my place already,” Lance tells him with a smile. “No cockroaches in the elevator.”

“Gross,” Keith snorts. 

“Oh, they’re not even dead. They have regular book clubs in there. You don’t want to know what’s in the bathrooms,” Lance adds and Keith laughs.

“Remind me to never go home with you,” Keith shakes his head, but with a smile.

Lance follows him out the doors and down the hall. Keith stops at a door marked 304 and keys the lock before swinging the door open. He gestures for Lance to come on in and then follows behind him. Keith hangs up his keys and jacket before he remembers in time to flick the entryway light switch.

Normally he just leaves them off when he’s alone. He doesn’t need them but Lance might think it strange if he doesn't turn on some lights. So he turns on the hallway one, then when they reach the living room he flips that one too. 

It’s all so big and open. And everything is ridiculously clean and organized. 

Lance can’t walk three steps in his own place without stepping on an empty soda bottle or pair of socks. He’s hardpressed to find even a book out of place on Keith’s shelves. All his shoes are neatly stacked on a shoe organizer by the front door. No snacks on the coffee table. No stray pens or pencils or paperwork for school anywhere, just a closed laptop charging near the wall.

Lance whistles, impressed. 

“This is easily the cleanest apartment I’ve ever seen a college student living in,” Lance comments, still eyeing the place. 

There's artwork on the walls, all abstract but reminding him of star systems and far off planets. Some photographs of Keith with Shiro. Even a framed poster of the Apollo 11. But mostly it looks pretty bare. A flat-screen is mounted into the wall. There’s a nice record player in the corner, well-loved and with a box of about two dozen records at the base. 

The living room is adjacent to the kitchen. From the sofa he can see the clean countertops, sinks and oven. Not a single dirty dish in the sink and none on the counters either. There’s a Keurig near the microwave that Keith’s already pouring water into. 

“Coffee or hot chocolate?” Keith asks, opening up the cabinet above and fingering the K-cups up there.

“Coffee’s good,” Lance answers. “You decorate this place?”

“Allura did. Shiro’s wife,” Keith tells him and pulls down a cup, setting it under the nozzle before clicking the button. “Guess she thought his place needed some...personality.”

“And your interests run more towards math and science, not Martha Stewart,” Lance nods. “I get it. She did a good job. Suits you. Very Neil Armstrong,” Lance smirks.

“Go ahead and sit wherever. Remote’s on the coffee table, last I checked,” Keith gestures a thumb over his shoulder. 

Lance shrugs and jumps the back of the couch to land in it’s center. Grabs up the remote and clicks on the TV while popping off his shoes. Moves them under the table so he doesn’t end up tripping over them. History channel, ghost hunters. Already they’re screaming about something whispering in their ears in the haunted church. Lance chuckles and turns it up a little.

“Believe in ghosts?” Keith asks as he puts Lance’s coffee cup on a coaster.

“Oh yeah, definitely,” Lance nods and leans back. Keith walks back over to the kitchen to get his own drink started. “Just cause you can’t see something doesn’t mean it isn’t there.”

Keith feels himself smile and has to hold back a laugh. He knows that all too well.

“And I swear my Uncle’s place is haunted,” Lance adds as someone trips going down the stairs. 

“Really?” Keith asks. 

“Yep, I heard someone walking around in the basement one night. Pulled open the pantry doors down there. Left a mess but no one ever saw anyone. Gotta be a ghost,” Lance mumbles, giving himself goosebumps before laughing. “That or my Uncle sleep walks and binge eats saltines in his sleep.”

Keith snorts and puts his own drink down on a coaster. He sits down on the couch, fairly close to Lance but not quite touching. 

Feels a little awkward now. Keith’s not sure how to proceed. 

Actually, that’s not quite right. He knows what to do but he’s never gotten this far with someone unaware of his impairment. By this point, the person involved knew what they were getting into so he never had this anxiety in his gut. He thought maybe Lance would’ve figured it out by now but he supposes in a different way Lance is just as blind.

Maybe he should just tell Lance. And if he leaves, he leaves. No big deal. At least that’s what he tells himself but he knows it’ll hurt to lose such a nice friend. A friend that is slowly walking his fingers around the couch back, closer and closer to Keith’s neck. And not so subtly scooting closer to him.

Lance swallows down his nerves, keeping his eyes on his steaming cup of coffee. It’s not like he’s never done this before but he was kinda hoping Keith would start them off. After all, he was the one who suggested they go back to his place. 

A quick look over tells him Keith’s just as anxious. His fingers pick at his jeans, like he’s trying to smooth them out. His teeth worrying into his lip. It’s then that Lance decides to initiate. Keith did it yesterday, he can do it this time.

His hand cradles the back of Keith’s neck while the other reaches over to cup his cheek, turning him to face Lance and pulling his mouth closer. Lance brushes his lips gently against Keith’s. It’s soft. Barely a kiss at all but the air changes around them drastically. He can’t hear the tv anymore all of a sudden.

“You said you wanted to pick up from yesterday?” Lance whispers against his lips.

“Yeah,” Keith breaths, his tongue gingerly wetting his lower lip.

“Then open your mouth,” Lance suggests, pressing his lips to Keith’s, his tongue already chasing the flavor of him. Keith parts his mouth and let’s Lance inside, sighing between breathes. 

He tastes like strawberries, Lance thinks as he kisses him. A wet, delicious sweetness that he wants more and more of so he presses forward and pulls on Keith’s curls. Keith kisses eagerly back, getting the distinct flavor of orange juice and sweet cream from that waffle. 

They’re eight deep kisses in when Keith realizes he already laying back on the couch arm, Lance over him and a his hand up his shirt. Its that thumb rubbing on his ribs and fingers curling around his side that alerts him to his new position. He arches into that touch, his head tilting back a little over the edge of the couch arm. 

That exposed neck catches Lance’s attention and he dives in for his pulse. Mouthing and grazing his teeth on his sensitive neck. Keith can still feel fingers in his hair, nearly caught on the hair tie. Lance pulls it free and digs in to get a hold of his thick wild hair before kissing him again. 

“You taste sweet,” Lance pants, licking his lips.

Keith lets out a heady sigh, fingers grasping on Lance’s hips. He kneads at the fabric of his slacks, fingers dipping into his waistband while his thumbs play with the button. He could pop it right off with how wound up he is but instead he just slowly pulls Lance’s shirttails out. 

Lance raises Keith’s shirt until it's up to his neck. What a spread. Toned without being bulky. Half a dozen childhood scars here and there. A couple of small bruises Lance attributes to his clumsy nature. He’s more interested in those pert nipples however, hard from arousal. Lance lowers his hungry mouth to taste them with a sigh. Keith arches at the feel of Lance’s wet tongue and hot breath, shuddering.

Then Lance kisses down his body. Lower and lower, making Keith lose purchase on his hips but not giving a damn because he likes where Lance is headed. He can already feel him nosing at his waistband. 

Keith instinctively covers his mouth. Years of growing up with Shiro has made him wary about making too much noise when he brought guys home. Didn’t want his guardian to find out and walk in on him. It’s been years since he needed to worry about being heard by anyone but old habits die hard.

Lance palms his crotch, squeezing and rubbing the stiff hardon underneath. Keith gasps into his clenched fist and Lance thinks it's the best sound he’s heard out of his mouth all night even if it is muffled. Keith unfurls his fingers to rub the bridge of his nose under his shades and Lance squeezes again.

This sends Keith’s hand up to run through his hair, knocking the sunglasses to the floor. They skid out of reach somewhere and Keith can honestly say he doesn’t fucking care. He just closes his eyes, bites his lip, and enjoys the feel of Lance nosing against his aching crotch.

Lance heard the sunglasses clatter to the ground and looks up to see Keith’s flushed face. His parted mouth taking panting breathes and hands squeezing tight on the couch cushions and in his hair. Lance wants nothing more than to get closer to his face now that it’s exposed. So he makes his way back up.

Bellybutton. Stomach. Sternum. All of them receive kisses, and licks, and nibbles as he travels up. His hands hook into Keith’s shirt and pull it over his head, tossing it on the floor. That blush on Keith’s face is inching it’s way down his neck and chest and damn...if it isn’t just delightful to see. 

Lance buries his teeth into Keith’s pulse, sucking on the flesh. His hips dip down to rub his own hardon against Keith’s and the both of them groan at the pressure. More. More skin. Keith’s hands find their way to Lance’s shirt buttons, fumbling with them as he reels from Lance’s hot panting breath on his neck.

“This what you had in mind tonight?” Lance asks, breathy in his ear. 

Hell yeah it is. Keith nods but then the sound of the front door opening makes them go rigid. 

Did he...forget to bolt the door?

“Keith? How’d it go?” calls out Matt from the entry. He steps down the hall and right past the couch to go into the kitchen. “Shiro said you had a date with the coffee guy. Wanted me to check on you. You know how he is. I brought wine. White if it was  _ bad  _ and red if it was  _ good _ ...if it was  **_really_ ** bad, we can drink both.”

Lance sits up to announce his presence. Hair disheveled and shirt unbuttoned, lips red from kissing so hard. Keith sits up too a hand to his face, his cheeks an inferno in no small part to his annoyance and arousal. His eyes are pinched shut as he curses under his breath. 

Matt’s eyes go wide as he points and makes inarticulate noises. 

“Uh! I--Oh!” Matt covers his mouth, shifts uncomfortably and gestures to nothing. “I must have...misread that text. I thought it said  _ first  _ date, not like...I didn’t think you’d be...My bad.”

“Matt,” Keith sighs, standing up from the couch.

“So the red wine then?” Matt shrugs with an awkward smile. 

“Out,” Keith growls, stomping over to him, steps heavy from the boots he’s yet to kick off. 

Keith gets a purchase on his shoulders and starts shoving him violently towards the door. Lance laughs a little at the exchange as Matt waves goodbye. Lance waves back before snickering and running a hand through his hair. The next thing he hears is the door shut and Keith stomping his way back.

He’s so embarrassed but also furious. Why did he ever give Matt a key? And now the momentum is gone. They’re gonna have to start over at that awkward stage again. Maybe he should just call it off for tonight. Call Lance a cab before he can notice the way he won’t meet his eyes. Where are his--

The sound of crunching plastic echoes through the apartment, stopping his heart.

Keith goes stiff for a second before dropping to a knee. His fingers brush the broken pieces of his sunglasses, the ones he tossed in their revelry. A sinking feeling washes over him, like an anchor around his feet pulling him down.

No, no, no. Dammit, dammit, dammit. This wasn’t supposed to happen.

“Oh man, they broken?” Lance asks.

“Yeah,” Keith mumbles, the breath painful as it escapes. 

“You can get a new pair tomorrow,” Lance suggests but Keith doesn’t stand up from the shards. His shoulders sink with a sigh and Lance grows concerned the longer he stays there.

Something’s wrong. Lance gets up from the couch and pads over. Takes a knee and puts a hand on Keith’s shoulder but he doesn’t look up. Just sinks a little more into himself to avoid Lance’s eyes. They must be really important to Keith, he concludes. 

“They have sentimental value?” Lance asks and Keith shakes his head.  
  
Keith feels his eyes go teary and crying is the last thing he wants to do but it spills over a little. The drops plip on the floor and Lance lowers himself more to sit back on his feet, rubbing his back.

“Hey, hey. It’s alright,” Lance assures him. “No use crying over a pair of lousy shades. You look better without them anyway. Here, chin up.”

Keith is hesitant to raise his gaze but they’re past the point of no return. No need to keep his eyes hidden any more. He lets Lance wipe his face with his sleeve cuff, getting his chin and up to his cheeks. Dabbing at the corner of his eyes.

Something’s off, Lance decides. Something about his eyes. They don’t focus on Lance’s and in fact, they’re way off. Scanning around every few seconds but never coming close to meeting his. He’d think Keith was trying to avoid making eye contact but that’s not the vibe he’s getting. 

Lance takes in a sharp breath and Keith knows it's finally clicking. 

“Keith, can you  **_see_ ** ?” he asks. His eyes furrowed, blinking, and confused.

Dammit it. It’s all over isn’t it? Broken just like his glasses.

Lance sees the shame register on his face and knows the answer before Keith closes his eyes and shakes his head to answer him. Keith lets out a resigned sigh as a stunned Lance revisits all their interactions with open eyes. He keeps thinking Lance will stand up or move away but he just sits there, perplexed but running through his memories. 

“You weren’t ignoring me before,” Lance realizes. “You didn’t know I was there cause I didn’t say anything.”

Keith nods. 

Lance remembers the look of concern on Shiro’s face every time Keith stood to go do something. When he tripped over the chair. The way he hid behind his sunglasses and took calculated steps as they walked the streets. His dictated notes. Everything.

He suddenly recalls the conversation that sent Keith outside to get air. About going into space one day. God, he just let Lance talk and talk about shit he didn’t know anything about. Like he could just get over being blind with hope and good feelings and one day become a shuttle pilot. 

God, he must have sounded like such an idiot but Keith didn’t stop him. Just let him carry on with that naive garbage when he knew it wouldn’t apply to his situation. If he’d known, he wouldn’t have been so insensitive. 

“What happened?” Lance whispers. “How did--”

Everyone always wants to know. How did it happen? Was it an accident? Can it be fixed? How bad is it really? Do you only see darkness? Keith already knows all the questions Lance is going to ask so he cuts him off to answer quickly and succinctly. He's just...ready to get this over with.

“Macular degeneration. It’s...hereditary with no cure. Just management. Happens to older people mostly but…” Keith shrugs “Shit happens. 80% vision loss in one eye and 85% in the other. ”

“Does that mean you can see? A little?” Lance wonders.

“Just in my periphery. And not well. You’re wearing…” Keith pauses and scans his eyes a little. “...white. And your skin is...tan. Other than that--”

“Christ dude, why didn’t you tell me?” Lance asks, tilting his head down to look at Keith but he’s already closed his eyes.

Keith takes a deep breath. Why  _ didn’t  _ he just tell Lance? That first day when he confronted him about ignoring him. He could have just said it right then. Surprise, guess who’s blind? But Lance’s voice was so nice. A playful energy to it. Lance wanted to be friends before he knew a thing about him. 

He didn’t cater to Keith just cause he was different and he certainly didn’t pity him. Lance doesn’t know how rare that is. So he wanted it to stay that way for as long as possible.

“Didn’t want you to treat me like everyone else does,” Keith admits. “I liked that you thought I was some pretentious dick so you wouldn’t pull your punches. Not some blind guy to feel sorry for. You wouldn’t believe how many dates I get out of pity.”

He thought Lance would pity him? All because he can’t see? 

“Open your eyes again,” Lance asks, then insists by tilting Keith’s head up with hands on both sides of his cheeks. “Let me see them.”

Keith complies with a resigned sigh and blinks them open. He tries to focus them somewhere in Lance’s general direction but he’s not sure how well he’s doing. Every few seconds he flicks them somewhere that might be closer but he stops, knowing it just makes it more painfully obvious that he doesn’t know where to look. What is Lance looking for? 

Finally Lance takes a deep breath.

“Well, you’re definitely pretentious,” Lance agrees. 

Keith feels lips encapsulate on his own and it blows his eyes wide in surprise. They lid and close as he falls into Lance’s kiss. 

“Blind or not, you’re still pretty kissable,” Lance comments and kisses him again, tongue sliding in and out for a second and stealing Keith’s breath. “And I still want to keep going where we left off before we were interrupted.”

Keith can’t believe it. 

He doesn’t do this often but he raises his hands and places them on Lance’s face. Feels the contours of his cheeks, the creases around his eyes, the curve of his mouth. There's confusion at first, from what Keith’s doing, but it clicks once Keith’s hands stop moving and just rest there.

“You  _ want  _ to keep going?” Keith repeats, feeling for any indication that Lance is kidding.

“Yeah,” Lance nuzzles his hand. “Want to take it to your room?”

It feels sincere. Lance isn’t mad or unnerved or anything about him. Could have sworn he’d be at least a little put out but...he just feels a warm smile tugging at his face. It could still work out. Things didn’t fall apart after all.

Keith huffs out a relieved chuckle as he takes his hands off Lance’s face and stands from the floor. A normal person would have been pissed to find out they were lied to. Lie of omission but still, a lie. 

Lance is just full of surprises it seems.

“You’ll have to let me lead you,” Keith asserts with a smirk, offering his hand.

Lance can’t say no to that, so he takes the extended hand. Keith pulls him up to his feet and Lance leans in to whisper in his ear again.

“I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

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> (Love Klance? Go Check out my other Klance fics! Check tags and read responsibly!)


	5. Chapter 5

They leave the living room as it is. Ghosthunters still playing on the flatscreen. Undrunk coffee losing its steam on their coasters. Shards of broken sunglasses on the floor. They pay no attention to it at all as Keith pulls him, stepping backward through a dark hallway.

“I can’t see a thing,” Lance comments and Keith snorts.

“I’ve got you,” Keith assures him and pulls him towards the pitch black bedroom.

“I mean, how will I know if you’re enjoying it?” Lance asks as Keith stops.

“The same way I do,” Keith hints and pushes his body against the door frame. “With touch.”

He runs a hand up Lance’s body through the opened shirt, fingers brushing against his stomach and skimming up to gingerly squeeze at his shoulder before peeling the shirt down and off. Lance hums appreciatively as Keith grips his hips and stands on his tiptoes to nose into Lance’s neck.

“With sound,” Keith includes as he dips his hand into Lance’s unbuttoned pants and rubs until Lance lets out a grateful sigh. “With taste,” Keith adds, then sticks his tongue into Lance’s mouth to coax out the flavors from before.

Lance’s willing to try it Keith’s way, so he closes his eyes.

Taste. He brings his hands to Keith’s face, fingers in his hair and kisses back just as eagerly, chasing the last of the strawberries from Keith’s milkshake. Touch. A hand at Keith’s back to bring him in closer with no resistance at all. Sound. Keith’s sigh as he falls into the kiss. God Keith’s moans practically have a flavor of their own.

“That’s...hot as fuck,” Lance admits with a gasp.

“Think so?” Keith asks.

“Hell yeah. Let’s get the rest of your clothes off,” says Lance.

There’s barely any light in the bedroom but the glow from a streetlight outside illuminates the outline of a bed and few other pieces of furniture. It’s not much but enough for Lance to figure out where he can step with falling and taking Keith down with him.

Keith pulls him to the bed but Lance gently directs him to sit down. He takes to his knees, fingers unfastening laces on Keith’s boots. Once they’re loose enough he pulls them off and tosses them aside. He slides his hands up Keith’s legs and undoes the zipper at the tented crotch of his jeans, before hooking his fingers in and lowering them to the ground.

Touch. Lots of touch, Lance remembers.

He starts with a kiss at his calf. Trails his way up to his knee, bracing his hands on the bed to pull himself slowly up. Mouthing at his inner thigh higher and higher brings out a sigh in Keith. Fingers thread into Lance’s short hair, massaging his scalp as he positions himself between Keith’s legs and pulls down those boxers to reveal him.

“Ah!” Keith gasps when Lance starts lapping him.

Hearing that sound brings a pleased smile to Lance’s face before he sinks his mouth on Keith’s cock with a happy hum. Keith’s fingers tighten considerably in Lance’s hair with a groan as Lance bobs up and down between his legs, tongue circling and teeth grazing on sensitive flesh.

Lance strokes and laps up a small pearl of pre-come before whispering, “You taste sweet all over.”

The compliment makes Keith bite back a moan. That voice saying such delightful things...he’d thought before that Lance had a wonderful voice. It’s unraveling him and taking all he can to stay sitting up straight while Lance tastes him.

Lance strokes and thumbs the fat head of Keith’s cock, sticky with his saliva but then he lets go with the intention of lifting Keith up to push him further up the bed. Before he can do anything Keith grabs his hips. Paws his body until he gets a hold of Lance’s pants and tugs them down, boxers and all. Keith’s eager and wants to feel him too. Wants to stroke them together.

Lance gets the message when he tries to pull them closer. He crawls over until Keith is laid back on the mattress, sighing under him. Lance grips their cocks together, stroking them both as they make out on the bed. Keith gasps and rocks into the feeling of Lance’s fingers expertly squeezing in a constant rhythm.

He sounds so good. Feels so good. Lance can’t see shit but damn if Keith wasn’t right. He doesn’t need to.

“Got any lube? Condoms?” Lance pants raspily in his ear.

Keith doesn’t say a word, just rolls a little to reach over and pull open a drawer. The search lasts no more than a second before he’s pulled both objects from the drawer, pressing them into Lance’s hands.

“Oh. You want me to…” Lance raises his brows with surprise.

“What?”

“Nothing, I figured from the way you talk that you’re partial to giving,” Lance shrugs.

“That a problem?” Keith asks.

“Nope, not at all. I'm versatile. I may be a little out of practice though,” Lance admits.

Lance squirts the lube onto his fingers as Keith shimmies the rest of the way out of his boxers, kicking them to the floor. Lance smoothes the stickiness around while his other hand gets a purchase on Keith’s hip. With a gentle probing finger, he finds Keith’s hole and presses inside with ease.

“Ahhh,” Keith sighs.

He pushes and pulls, curling his finger to elicit a shiver out of Keith. Then Lance presses in the second and hears him moan, arching his back. He’s getting in so easily, like it’s no work at all. Normally he’d wait a little before adding a third but he goes ahead and pushes it in, coaxing another delicious moan out of Keith.

“You’re so relaxed,” Lance says, impressed. “I’ve never had such an easy time working someone open before.”

“I’ve been...working myself...for the past week,” Keith admits between sighs and thrusts of fingers.

“Past week?” Lance repeats and then grins. “Oh ho, I see.”

Lance presses in at a harder and faster pace, making Keith let out a keening whine. His toes curl as Lance’s fingers massage his walls, rubbing his prostate. Pushing and pulling a shaking Keith apart with each thrust. If Lance is out of practice he could have fooled Keith.

“This isn’t the only time you thought about me in your bed is it?” Lance asks suggestively, his voice tickling Keith’s ears.

“N-No...it’s not,” Keith admits with a groan.

If Lance has anything to say about it, it won’t be the last time he’s there either.

The fingers pull out and Keith sighs, running a hand through his hair. He can hear Lance opening the condom, then rolling it onto his dick. Can feel him shifting on the bed to position himself to fuck Keith. Lance’s hands squeeze at his thighs spreading them open as he presses the head of his cock to Keith’s ass.

Lance enters with a shuddering groan and Keith mirrors him with a moan of his own, clenching the sheets in his fists with excitement. Lance loses no time in working up a brisk tempo that already has Keith gasping and arching into the thrusts.

“You feel amazing,” Lance groans. “Lift your legs higher, over my shoulders. I want to get in deeper.”

“Fuck yes,” Keith moans and complies quickly.

Lance helps lift him off the bed a little so that his legs reach up higher. Then he grips tight on Keith’s legs and thrusts deeper. Harder. Faster. His own grunts and sighs just as loud as Keith’s. He turns his head to the side to bite and suck on Keith’s calf with a moan.

God Keith hasn’t been fucked like this in years. Rough and hard, like he likes it. Everyone else is too gentle with him like they’re afraid he’ll break. Not Lance, thankfully.

Keith can feel his cock leaking more and more each time Lance hits the sweet spot. It’s dripping down his length and starting to trickle on his stomach. God, he wants to go faster. Bet if he asked Lance would up the ante.

Lance pants and moans at the welcoming pressure of Keith’s asshole. Just the right amount of give and he swears Keith’s is gasping, begging him to go ‘harder’ and ‘faster’ as he plows him. He’s working up quite the sweat already but he thinks he can manage it. So he gives Keith what he’s begging for, hard smacking thrusts that make Keith shout in panting breaths and fist the sheets harder.

“I can...feel you tightening on me,” Lance pants, licking his lips.

“F-Fuck,” Keith moans.

“You close?” Lance asks.

“Y-Yeah,” Keith shudders.

“Me too,” Lance groans. “Want to slow down? Drag it out a little longer? Change positions?”

“Yeah,” Keith nods, biting his lip. He doesn’t want it to be over yet.

“Tell me what you want.”

What he wants?

“I want to ride you,” Keith answers.

Lance grins. Sounds good to him, plus it’ll give his legs a chance to rest a little.

He pulls out and the both of them groan, Keith from the emptiness and Lance from the lack of pressure. Keith sits up and moves out of the way so Lance can layout on the bed. Once down Keith loses no time and clambers over him, repositioning himself and sinking onto Lance’s cock with a sigh. He rocks up and down as Lance thrusts from below, his warm hands guiding Keith on top of him.

Lance can see the outline of Keith’s body with the faint light from the window beside him. Shining with sweat. Hair wild. Every undulation of his body caught in the glow of the streetlight as he rides Lance. His stiff cock curling up against his body, the tip shiny with arousal. God, he can’t stop staring at his enraptured face.

He bites his lip, eyeing that cock that’s just begging for attention. With a slide of his hand, he grasps Keith’s hard length and strokes him, slicking his fingers with all the fluids dripping out him.

Keith is going to lose his mind. Feels weightless, like he’s floating. Euphoria washing over him. He can almost _see_ it all in striking detail. Lance’s flushed face, eyes taking in his body. His fingers diligently working his aching cock closer and closer to bursting while he thrusts into him.

Lance is going to break him into needy mewling pieces and he wants him to.

Keith’s breaths get short and clipped, a whine in the back of his throat that he desperately tries to swallow down but Lance hears it, making him let out a needy groan too knowing how close the both of them are.

“Come for me,” Lance begs, his voice ragged. “I want to _hear_ it. Want to _feel_ it.”

Keith comes with a gasp, shooting come all over Lance’s stomach and down his knuckles. His shaking cries bring Lance to his orgasm too with a groan, shooting up into Keith as his nails dig into Keith’s thighs. There’s so much that Lance’s sure it’ll burst the condom if any more spurts out.

Keith falls forward, panting and gasping against Lance’s chest. Lance threads his fingers into that mess of hair with a chuckle and tugs him up to give him a sloppy kiss, full of tongue. It’s messy but a good one.

“Good?”

“Great,” Keith breathes. “Time is it?”

“Uh, about ten,” Lance answers after checking his watch. “Why? You got somewhere to be?”

“Just trying to figure out if we have time to go again,” Keith ponders seriously. “I have class in the morning.”

“Hmmm...yeah, and I got the early shift tomorrow,” Lance sighs.

There’s a pause for approximately five seconds before they both blurt.

“--I’ll skip.”

“--I’ll call in.”

They both burst with laughter at that. Keith reaches over, snags a tissue from his side table and cleans the mess off of Lance’s stomach. Lance gives his thigh a pat and Keith hops off so he can remove the condom.

Keith’s already flicked a switch to illuminate the room for Lance’s benefit. He ties off the condom and when he looks up Keith’s holding a wastebasket in front of his face. With a chuckle, he tosses it in. Keith then drops it and kick-slides it back across the room to where it belongs.

“Amazing,” Lance hums, grabbing him around the middle and pulls him back into the bed. “Hmmm...and you wanna go again? Might need a nap. I haven’t had a workout like that for a while.”

Keith feels Lance brushing his hair aside, moving it behind his ears so he can look at his face. Instinctively he tilts his head and lids his eyes, directing both downwards so as not to unnerve but Lance cups his chin bringing him back up. He knows he’s looking at them again by the stretched silence.

“I’m glad you broke your sunglasses,” Lance tells him. “You have nice eyes.”

“Lance,” Keith sighs. “Stop.”

“No, I mean it. So what if they can’t see,” Lance says, pressing his nose to Keith’s. “They’re _your_ eyes. They’re a part of what makes you _you_. They’re special. Unique. Just like you. I like them.”

Keith’s face flushes with a catch in his breath.

“What? No one ever tell you that?” Lance blinks with a dopey grin. “Come on, no one?”

“Sure they have,” Keith shrugs, tilting his head away in the hopes Lance won’t see how embarrassed he is. “No one’s ever sounded genuine when they said it though. Just empty praise. Said out of pity because they thought that’s what I wanted to hear.”

Keith hates the pity aspect more than anything, that’s clear. He doesn’t mind the compliments or flattery as long as it’s real but he’s never heard it sound real before. Something sad about that, Lance frowns. Relying on his hearing for pretty much everything, Keith knows false praise when he hears it. Lance can’t imagine anyone getting away with lying to Keith.

Lance presses his lips to Keith’s again, soft but insistent on getting kisses back. It’s comforting and Keith returns the kisses with equal fervor. They’re both still slick, smelling of sweat and the day's work.

“Want to use the shower?” Keith asks.

“Are there lights in your bathroom?” Lance wonders and Keith snorts with a nod. “Then sure. You gonna join me in there?”

“Nah,” Keith shakes his head. “There’s barely room for one. I’ll wait until you’re finished.”

“Alright.”

Lance stands, tussles Keith’s hair, and steps slowly down the hall peeking into doors until he finds the bathroom. Keith just lays back in the bed and listens to the water start running. He takes a deep breath and touches his face, his cheeks still warm from Lance’s words.

Keith’s phone jingles from the floor, still buried in his jeans pocket. He finds it and asks Siri to read out the text for him.

 _One new message from: Matt Holt._  
_Subject: Date._  
_Contents: Sorry about before. I didn’t ruin things did_  
_I? You’ve  never brought someone home on a first_  
_date before so I didn’t know I was walking in on_  
_something. Take the wine? As a peace offering?_

He chuckles. He will definitely lay claim to that wine.

“Siri, Reply,” says Keith. “It’s all good. Knock next time. Or maybe call.”

Within moments another reply dings back.

_One new message from: Matt Holt._  
_Subject: Date._  
_Contents: So...you gonna dish? How did it go?_  
_Details! Make it to the moon? Or never left orbit?_

Keith snorts and falls back onto the bed. Matt loves to gossip and it’s good to know he hasn’t forgotten his ranking scale. He does want to talk about it but he knows half of it will get back to Shiro if he’s not careful. Matt’s never been known for his discretion. Shiro worries about him enough without adding the dangers of hooking up with people he hasn’t completely vetted.

But this is different from before and he wants to let his best friend know about it.

“Siri, reply,” Keith sighs. “To the moon, definitely. More than once, if I have any say.”

The quickest reply yet.

_One new message from: Matt Holt._  
_Subject: Date._  
_Contents: Wait, is he still there? Holy shit!_  
_Must be some kind of special if you’re_  
_letting him stay the night._

Keith can’t disagree with that. Lance is...definitely some kind of special. He could try to explain it to Matt but he knows it’ll come across as corny and that’s not normally Keith’s speed. He doesn’t want to sound like a lovestruck teen. He replies to Matt again, short and simple.

“He’s different,” he settles on.

_One new message from: Matt Holt._  
_Subject: Date._  
_Contents: Oh man, different? So you’ll be_  
_missing class tomorrow_

Matt knows him too well.

 _One new message from: Matt Holt._  
_Subject: Date._  
_Contents: I’ll take notes for you but you_  
_gotta know that the Professor’s gonna tell_  
Shiro _you didn’t show via text the minute_  
_class starts. Forewarned is forearmed._

Oh, he knows that all too well. He’s prepared for a lecture from the adjunct professor. It won’t be the first time he’s gotten scolded by Shiro for missing class but it has been a while. He better work on his apologetic voice but for now...

Lance comes padding down the hall. Keith hears him drying his hair with a relaxed sigh.

“Good heat on that shower,” Lance comments. “Hmm? Someone text you?”

“Yeah, Matt,” Keith nods. “Wanted to apologize for walking in on us.”

“How do you read them?” he asks curiously. “I was just wondering about that while scrubbing.”

“Here, give me your number,” Keith tells him, passing the phone over.

Lance grins and puts it in. Keith takes his phone back and asks Siri to text contact: Lance.

“Now you’ve got my number,” Keith says into the phone. “Send.”

Lance’s phone jingles from the floor. He picks it up and opens the message. After a few swipes and such he’s added Keith's number to his own contacts. Then thumbs out his own message before hitting send. Keith’s phone bings once it arrives.

“Siri, read text,” Keith asks.

 _One new message from: Lance_  
_Subject: None_  
_Contents: Ready for round two? Or do you want to_  
_clean yourself up so I can get you dirty all over again?_

Keith snorts despite himself and Lance laughs.

“Maybe don’t have her read mine in public. I’m not the most appropriate human being even at the best of times,” Lance suggests, his grin not going away anytime soon.

“I’ll shower,” Keith says, shoving him a little. “Feel free to wander. I usually take a while.”

Lance nods and watches as Keith walks stark naked down the hall towards the bathroom. He doesn’t pause for even a second, intimately familiar with his abode and no concerns about tripping over something because nothing is ever out of place. Once inside the door closes most of the way and the shower begins.

Wander, huh?

He takes a little walk around the bedroom and eyes it’s contents now that it’s lit. Twin bed with a dark chocolate colored headboard and maroon sheets. Soft ones too. An alarm clock on the bedside table. There’s a lamp on the opposing side table but it’s not plugged in. Purely for appearances.

Lance checks out the desk next. There’s a charging port for the laptop that’s in the living room. He must move them often enough to purchase a second charger. There's a coffee mug on the desk with a number of pencils in them but when Lance pulls one out he finds it unsharpened. He puts it back and continues exploring.

An open closet with shirts and such on hangers. He wonders how Keith knows how to match the colors so well. He can see a little but that tells him nothing about coordinating. A little browsing shows that the labels have raised marks on them, like dots of puffy paint. Must mean something he guesses.

A shelf with various CDs on them. The word ‘braille’ suddenly comes to mind as he brushes his fingers across the spines of the cases. Keith’s partial to a lot of foreign music he notes but also some older fare. It's that Frank Sinatra? That particular disk looks very worn and scratched. He puts it back in its proper place before continuing.

The floor is spotless, no sign of junk or shoes or clothes anywhere on the floor. Other than Lance's of course. He picks them up and moves them to on top of a dresser. The last thing he wants is for Keith to trip over his pants and faceplant into the floor.

Nothing on the walls as far as he can see. A couple of books sit on the shelves. A little potpourri bag has been placed next to his alarm clock and smells of lavender. Calming and sweet.

He hopes it's not too nosy of him but he rifles through the bedside drawers in his curiosity. One is just full of sexual accoutrements. Lube, condoms, nipple clamps, a gag, bandanas, and various sized plugs, all clean and neatly arranged. There's even a pair of cuffs but they look practically new. Nice to know Keith has proclivities for some fun and kinky stuff.

The drawer under it is nothing but socks and boxers. Boring. The other side reveals some accessories. Rings, bracelets, necklaces, and earrings. Things that Keith doesn't change out as frequently as he used to. They all speak to a teenage style long abandoned. Then there's the drawer under that one and opening it makes Lance laugh.

Candy, sugary snacks, and the like. That sweet tooth was no joke.

Twizzlers, Cadbury chocolate bars, Little Debbie cakes, sour gummies, and more. If it's midnight snack worthy then it's stuffed into the drawer. He doesn't think Keith would mind if he took a little box of Nerds but resists the temptation to snatch one out of there and gobble it down before he gets out of the shower.

“Oh crap,” he says, remembering their coffee.

It’s tepid when it reaches it but he drinks it down anyway. Gotta get that energy back if he wants to go a second time. While he’s out in the living room he spots the shards of broken shades again. After a quick check through the cabinets, he finds a dustpan and sweeps it up, dumping the pieces into the trash just as Keith walks out into the kitchen. There’s a towel wrapped around his waist as he towels off his hair. He keeps his eyes closed while walking around.

“You didn’t have to do that,” Keith tells him, pulling the smaller towel around his neck.

“My fault they were on the floor in the first place,” Lance says.

Keith’s knees are bruised he notes, from his fall the other day. He’d hardly noticed while they were busy having a good time. They aren’t the only bruises he has either. A few small ones spot his forearms, hips, and thighs as well. Occupational hazard from bumping into things.

Lance puts the dustpan back where he found it and approaches Keith. Puts hands on his hips and noses into his neck. Breathing in the fresh smell of body wash.

“Seems such a shame to get all sweaty again now that you smell so good,” Lance hums, nibbling on his ear.

“We don’t have to overexert ourselves,” Keith suggests.

“Great,” Lance grins and with a swift motion he pulls the towel off Keith’s hips, dropping to his knees for a second time that night. “Think I’ll just get some dessert and go to bed. Sound like a plan?”

“Sure,” Keith nods, already biting his lip as Lance starts sucking away on him in the middle of his kitchen.

It doesn’t take long for him to get hard again, feeling that warm wet mouth, hungrily sliding up and down his length. Lance’s fingers palming and squeezing his balls as he sucks and licks. He threads his fingers into Lance’s hair and guides him into going faster. Keith hopes no one else decides to stop by tonight.

“L-Let’s take it...back to my room,” Keith suggests, his nerves getting the better of him.

“Mmmm, your legs tired? Here,” Lance picks him up and sits him on the counter before continuing to deepthroat him.

“Ah God. Lance,” Keith groans, not willing to stop him.

He bobs there, his fingers grasped tight on Keith’s hips as leverage to help him pull and push onto that cock. Keith’s hands pull tight again on his hair as another mewling whine escapes his throat. Lance is just too good with that tongue of his. And that mouth! It can take him so deep.

Then Lance lifts his hips, sticking his writhing tongue into his asshole with a hungry moan. Keith arches and hooks a hand into a cabinet handle to steady himself as he unravels. He comes with a shaky cry for a second time that night while Lance returns to lap up the stream of fluid dripping down his length. Lance doesn’t let a drop escape and swallows him down with a moan of his own.

“Tastes so good,” he hums and licks Keith’s balls again.

“My turn,” Keith pants, hopping off the counter with wobbly legs.

He grabs Lance’s hand and pulls him urgently across the room and down the hall, back to the bedroom. All this fun and he still hasn’t gotten a chance to put Lance’s cock in his mouth. That just won't do. 

“Want me to lay--”

“No,” Keith interrupts, pulling him on to the bed over him.

“Then--”

“Fuck my face,” Keith demands as he sits up against the headboard. “And don’t stop until you finish.”

Lance’s face flushes red at the boldness of Keith saying exactly what he wants. It’s not something he has any objections to but it is different for him. He’s not used to being the aggressor when it comes to the bedroom, prefers to be at the mercy of those who have him.

“Anything you want,” Lance smirks as he climbs and sits up over his torso.

He runs his fingers through Keith’s thick hair, gives it a slight tug to tilt his head back before pressing his twitching cock into Keith’s mouth with a heady sigh. Keith sighs, grateful for that filling feeling again. His tongue does it’s best to swirl around Lance’s cock as he thrusts.

Lance remembers the cuffs in Keith’s drawer. He thinks Keith will like it if he grabs his wrists and maybe hold them high above his head. So he takes them, crossed at the wrists in one hand and pins them to the headboard. Keith’s brows furrow and he moans needily as Lance continues to fuck his face.

“K-Keith,” Lance pants, eyes catching on the spit dribbling out of Keith’s moaning mouth.

He looks like a writhing, greedy mess with how he takes Lance’s cock. Flushed cheeks and whimpering as he tastes him. Lance is almost worried Keith will want to go again after this with how riled up he looks. He wants to slow down but at the first sign of reducing his speed Keith whines and tries to shake his head.

“Keith, I’m--” Lance bites his lip and picks up the speed like he knows Keith wants. “It’s--”

Lance shoves in deep with a gasp, letting go of Keith’s hands and finding purchase on Keith’s hair. Fingers knotted into his locks and pulling as he pushes in, going as far as he can as come spurts into Keith’s mouth. The mouth of which just gratefully swallows him like candied syrup. When he pulls from Keith’s mouth the both of them pant to catch their breath.

“I...whew,” Lance exhales and chuckles over him. He wipes a little drop from the corner of Keith's mouth and sucks it off his thumb. “I’m spent.”

“What...you...can’t...go...again?” Keith says in between breaths, just as exhausted. “Coward.”

Lance snorts and collapses face down next to Keith, both of them laughing a little. “Think I’m going to have to sleep for a week to recharge.”

“Yeah,” Keith swallows and sighs. “Same.”

“But I’m definitely up for doing this again,” Lance adds patting Keith’s chest a few times before just flopping the arm down on top of him.

“Yeah?” Keith smirks. “How soon?”

“Well, if I’m not in a coma when the sun comes up,” Lance hints and lets out another chuckle. “That’s if you don’t mind me being here when you wake up.”

Keith snorts.

“It's fine, just...don’t hog all the blankets,” Keith rolls into the covers and throws them over the both of them.

“Deal,” Lance mumbles into the pillow. “Night.”

“Night,” Keith yawns.

The two of them hardly even move, Lance falling unconscious almost immediately. Comfortable and warm, the only shift in position made is when in the middle of the night Lance finds the blankets burritoed around Keith leaving him to freeze. He pulls at an edge to make an opening and instead of stealing the covers back he squeezes inside to partake of Keith’s accumulated warmth before promptly falling back asleep. Keith smirks and lets out a sigh as an arm wraps around his middle.

They all say he’ll never make it into space, let alone the moon. And maybe they’re right.

But tonight, with Lance’s hands on him, he feels just a bit closer to the stars.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you like the chapter, give it a kudos! If you really like it, leave a comment! Don't know what to say?   
> Tell me your favorite part! Or your favorite line. Rec it to a friend! Leave nothing but hearts. 
> 
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> 
> (Love Klance? Go Check out my other Klance fics! Check tags and read responsibly!)  
> (If you REALLY REALLY REALLY like it, go check out my other Voltron fic too! Leave a comment or two!)


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